


Sunday Mornings

by Baamon5evr



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Cute Kids, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Gen, M/M, Marriage, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), some foul language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-26
Updated: 2016-05-26
Packaged: 2018-06-10 12:43:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6956890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Baamon5evr/pseuds/Baamon5evr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite the fact that they were technically still fugitives Steve and Sam made a pretty good life for themselves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunday Mornings

**Author's Note:**

> This is set 4-5 years after CACW. Sam and Steve's relationship has already been established. This is basically a snapshot fic because after some of the negativity in the fandom I wanted something positive and for my OTP to have all the fluff.

_Sunday morning_

_rain is falling_

_Steal some covers_

_share some skin_

_Clouds are shrouding us_

_in moments unforgettable_

_you twist to fit the mold that I am in_

\- **Sunday Morning, Maroon 5**

 

Steve has always liked Sunday mornings.  

Sunday mornings as a kid meant his mother wasn't working so they would cook breakfast together and eat while going over each other's weeks. They would go to church where Mrs. McGrath would pass on colcannon, barmbrack and stew at the end of service so Ma didn't have to try to figure out what they were eating that evening or the next day. After they had changed into their play clothes, Ma would set up their canvases and easels. They weren't actually bought from the store, they couldn't afford the paint along with the supplies so Ma would find cardboard boxes in alleys on her way home from work and cut them up. She fashioned the easels herself from wood panels she got from the baker around the corner who had a crush on her. They could easily spend the rest of the day painting side by side before eating dinner. If Steve was lucky sometimes his mother would make apple amber or apple barley pudding. Sundays ended in her warm embrace and Steve didn't worry about anything.  

After Ma died and Steve moved in with Bucky, Sundays meant they were off work so they would spend it running around Coney Island or riding the rails back and forth. During the USO tour, Sundays meant taking a break with the dancers and listening to all their gossip while they treated him like just another one of the girls. During the war, Sundays meant he could spend time with Peggy outside of making battle plans with Captain Phillips and the Commandos. Now Sundays were even sweeter, even if they didn't start out that way sometimes.  

"No." Sam groaned from beside Steve as running footsteps thumped past their bedroom door. Steve resolutely shut his eyes and ignored the second set of feet walking past at a much slower pace accompanied by a quieter pattering.  

Last night had been one of _those_ nights. He and Sam had gone out on a "date", leaving the kids with their sitter. They had actually accompanied Bucky and Natasha on a mission. Steve and Sam didn't go on many missions with the Secret Avengers now that they had a family, but sometimes when they felt up to it they'd join Bucky, Natasha, Scott, Sharon and the others on impromptu endeavors. Honestly though, being parents was enough adventure to tide them over and then some most days.  

"Steve, go out there." Sam said quietly, his voice raspy from sleeping. 

Steve whined as he heard a ruckus arise from the living room before all was silent once more. He rolled over and threw an arm around Sam's waist, pulling him closer. He rested his head on his husband's shoulder, delving his nose into Sam's dreads. He had grown his hair out when T'Challa had decided they had overstayed their welcome in Wakanda. He hadn't kicked them out per say or rather if he had, he had done it politely. Once Natasha found them and provided T'Challa's scientists with as much information as they needed to remove Bucky's triggers they were kindly given the boot. 

_'I had a debt to pay to_ _Barnes but now that that's over, I would rather you not tear up my country. You attract an inordinate amount of trouble.'_ He had said. His fiancée, Monica, had made sure that they had enough to live off of and then they were back in the world. 

Bucky went off with Natasha to find Fury and some redemption for himself. Steve couldn't make him find peace, he needed to find that for himself and Natasha was there to help so Steve focused on taking care of the rest of his team. He got Wanda, Clint and Scott to safe havens of their own but he wasn't leaving Sam, not that the other man would let him anyway. They couldn't go back to the US even if Sam's mother swore she would hide them away at her place in New Orleans. They couldn't put her in danger that way. Steve wanted to give Sam some familiarity so he brought him to France where the villages and architecture reminded him of the French Quarter. They moved around a lot at first, sometimes leaving France for a month or two then coming back. It was dangerous to stay in one place even if they were using their mothers' maiden names and had changed their appearance ever so slightly. That went on for two years but eventually they settled in Colmar after they got married.  

Surprisingly France was one of the few countries that hadn't signed on to the Accords which didn't mean they weren't fugitives in the eyes of French officials, it just meant the manhunt for them wasn't quite so fierce and so Sam and Steve settled down. Being a fugitive, Steve didn't think he should be quite as happy as he was, but despite his status in the governments' eyes he had all he had ever wanted. The war was over for him, he had a home, but in that moment all he really wanted was to stay in bed. As Steve heard loud thumping from the living room against the floor and then the couch, he figured that wasn't going to happen.  

"Steve." Sam mumbled, his face pressed into his pillow so it sounded more like 'Steeb'.   

"Unhg, no..." Steve whined, pressing his face further into Sam's hair but Sam pulled the covers off of him and nudged him away with his shoulder. 

"They're your kids." 

"I think you'll find they're yours too." Steve reminded him. 

"Only on Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays. That was the deal. Get your ass up." Sam replied, pulling the sheets off Steve completely and rolling over on his stomach to turn himself into a blanket burrito.  

"I'd much rather stay in bed, since they're downstairs." Steve said, leaning over to kiss the back of Sam's neck and caress his fingers over his lips. Sam bit at the digits and slapped them away. 

"Not on your life." 

"Sam..." 

"If you're whining at me for sex, I'm telling Natasha." 

"That's cruel." 

"Get up and get your kids." 

"Once again, yours too." 

"You're the one who heard your biological clock beating out a samba at the orphanage and you're the one who used sex to convince me to go out on that damn mission last night with those two fuckheads. I swear, every time we go out with Bucky and Natasha, they make me feel ancient. I'm not hanging out with their asses anymore. Besides it's Sunday which means it's your job. Go make sure your demon spawn don't fuck up my living room." Steve chuckled at Sam's grouchiness. He was always extra grumpy on the mornings after they went out on missions which lead to some choice words but if Steve left him alone for another hour he'd be rearing to go. Steve forced himself to sit up, groaning as he stretched and heard a crack in his back. Bucky and Natasha really were a midlife crisis waiting to happen, never mind none of them were even 40 yet and Steve was a supersoldier. 

He leaned over and kissed Sam's cheek, his brunette hair brushing his eyes. Steve had dyed his hair right around the same time Sam decided to grow his out. He was also sporting a beard which was probably more for his and Sam's sex life than a disguise if he was being honest. Steve pushed himself out of the bed and opened the door only to be met with their Beauceron sitting in front of the door. Sam had been the one to champion getting a dog. He had found the puppy in an alley and convinced Steve they needed a guard dog, being fugitives and all. Titus tilted his head at Steve before slipping past him and jumping up in his spot on the bed, curling into Sam's side. 

"Get comfortable Titus, that might be your spot tonight if Steve isn't careful." Sam mumbled.

Steve half sighed, half chuckled before he shuffled down the hallway where family photos adorned the wall including their trips to the beach, Eliott's first birthday party, their canoe trips, trips to the countryside and the South of France and one of the few times they were able to meet up with Darlene somewhere outside of both France and the US. He smiled at one of his and Sam's wedding photos. It was one of the happiest days of his life right alongside the days they got their kids. He trudged down the stairs to said kids and he could hear one of them jumping on the couch from the steps. He didn't bother calling out to them, he was way too tired for that.  

He silently walked into the living room where his youngest daughter, Mia, was jumping around in the armchair, her springy curls bounced everywhere with her while her dark brown skin shone with light sweat in the dim light coming from the window, the sunlight covered up by clouds as rain lightly hit the pane. Anais, the oldest, was sitting on the larger couch, her blue eyes trained on the television with her baby brother Eliott in her lap. One of his light brown hands were stuffed in her blonde locks and the other was reaching out to Steve as he babbled nonsensically. Steve smiled at the baby before looking back over to Mia who was jumping in circles and had her back to him. He silently waited as she made a full circuit and then was staring directly at him. He crossed his arms over his chest as she got the expression of a deer-in-headlights. She climbed down off the armchair and put her arms behind her back, swinging back and forth while giving him the doe eyes. She knew exactly what she was doing and Steve knew it too but he could never resist her innocent act like Sam could. Curse the day Sharon showed her that trick. Steve rolled his eyes then reached forward and grabbed Mia in his arms. 

"Daddy's sleeping, we have to keep it down." He told the kids as he sat down on the couch next to Eliott and Anais. Mia crawled over to settle on his left side just as Eliott crawled over to him, sat in his lap and started playing with his fingers. 

"Did you and Daddy have a good date last night?" Anais asked, resting her head on his shoulder. 

"It was... fun." As fun as fighting terrorist organizations ever was really. 

"Mathilde said that you and Daddy were probably going to wrestle each other but when I asked about the boxing ring she laughed. I don't get it." Mia said with the innocent cluelessness of a seven-year-old. Anais chuckled beside him, she was twelve and their neighbors, Mrs and Mrs. Courtlier had taken it upon themselves to give Anais the talk when she got her first period. Mia was years from that and Steve wasn't about to put himself in a position to explain the birds and the bees to her while Sam was asleep. As lovely as the couch was, he didn't particularly fancy sleeping on it for a week. 

"All you need to know is Mathilde is dangerously close to being out of a job." Mia rose an eyebrow but Steve was cut off as Sam walked down the staircase. 

"Why's that? She's a good sitter." He asked, stretching his arms above his head. Mia opened her mouth but Steve slapped his hand over it. 

"No reason." Sam raised an eyebrow disbelievingly while Anais laughed again. 

"Uh-huh." 

"Weren't you sleeping?" 

"Couldn't find the right spot so I didn't bother. Besides, we have Mass soon anyway." It was a lot easier to find Catholic churches in France than Baptist churches. Sam's grandmother was Baptist and his father was too but his mother was Catholic and they alternated between churches growing up, so he didn't have a problem sticking with Catholicism for the time being. Steve just wanted Sam comfortable but he swore up and down he was fine with the church they had settled on so Steve didn't push. 

"Who wants to cook breakfast?" Sam asked. 

"Me!" Anais and Mia chorused jumping up and running to the kitchen ahead of Sam, Titus following after them. Eliott started clapping and reaching up to Sam. Sam placed the baby onto his hip and held his hand out to Steve, heaving him off the couch. 

"You too, Papabear." Steve smiled at the nickname Sam started calling him when they got the kids and Steve's overprotective streak made itself known.  

Cooking breakfast was a family endeavor. Sam did most of the cooking because Steve could be hopeless sometimes and because Sam liked cooking. He fried up eggs and pancakes while Steve took care of the drinks, brewing coffee for himself, squeezing fresh orange juice for Sam and Eliott and making mint hot chocolate for Mia and Anais. Mia kept Eliott entertained and filled Titus's bowl while Anais set the table and worked on a fruit salad. They knew their places for this and it worked, especially when Sam put his IPod in the speaker and played his breakfast playlist. Steve laughed to himself as Mia started singing 'Signed, Sealed, Delivered', forcing Anais to dance with her. He caught Sam's eye and smiled at him, Eliott's excitable squeals ringing just as melodiously in his ears as Stevie Wonder did. Sam smiled back at him before reaching out and kissing him softly. Steve didn't care that he was a wanted man. He didn't let himself worry that any moment this life he had built for himself, this family he had built, would be taken away unceremoniously. He did not wait on baited breath for the rug to be pulled out from under him, he focused on what he did have. For how much things had changed for him over the years, he still had Sunday mornings to look forward to.


End file.
